


Breath

by DefaultJane, fishbone76



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/F, Nightmare, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishbone76/pseuds/fishbone76
Summary: Samantha woke up when the woman next to her shot up in bed, breathing heavily, almost as if she’d just been dragged from a river a second before drowning. Samantha hadn’t been the commander’s girlfriend for much longer than a week and during that time, she’d spent three nights with Shepard. She knew the commander to be a restless sleeper, but this was a first.“Jane? What is it?” Samantha whispered. Shepard didn’t respond, just kept drawing short, almost panicky breaths as if afraid of running out of air.





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This piece set unpublished on my google docs for over a year because I simply forgot it existed or maybe I had planned to put it into a bigger shaynor story. Anyway I just found it again and decided to upload it because it's good enough to share it as a one-shot. I cannot thank my dear friend Defaultjane enough for improving my medium written story with her own wonderful skills. I usually offer her a skeleton story and she wraps the flesh and skin over it, giving it life.

_The armor’s alarm is deafening. There’s no air left, she’s holding her breath, the last shuddering one she drew too long ago. Her hands travel up, desperately trying to find the puncture in her suit. She tries to remain calm, it takes all of her will power; she’s convinced there’s still some way out of this, she just needs to... take a deep breath and think. Breathe._   
_Her heart is racing despite her attempts to keep calm. She can’t afford to lose control now, she can’t panic, she can’t allow her body to consume what little oxygen there is left._

_The alarm doesn’t stop. She desperately keeps seeking for the leak but it’s a wasted effort. She can feel her heartbeat hammering in her temples as she gives into the instinct to draw a breath, but there is no air to breathe. Tears sting in her eyes when she finally faces the fact that this is how she will die. Alone. Drifting in space. She doesn’t want to die like this. She puts up a fight, one more final effort. She struggles. She gasps for air, but there is none left._

Samantha woke up when the woman next to her shot up in bed, breathing heavily, almost as if she’d just been dragged from a river a second before drowning. Samantha hadn’t been the commander’s girlfriend for much longer than a week and during that time, she’d spent three nights with Shepard. She knew the commander to be a restless sleeper, but this was a first.  
“Jane? What is it?” Samantha whispered. Shepard didn’t respond, just kept drawing short, almost panicky breaths as if afraid of running out of air.

Samantha had overheard Doctor Chakwas tell Shepard that she needed to rest, and she’d heard several other crew members voice their concerns regarding the commander’s well-being. Considering everything Shepard had gone through and the immense pressure that had been put on her just now, it was no wonder the woman couldn’t sleep and had nightmares.  
“Bad dreams?” Samantha pried gently, reaching to softly flatten her palm against the spot between Shepard’s shoulder blades to silently offer comfort. Cold sweat glistened on Shepard’s skin, the hair on the back of her neck was also soaked in it. Shepard still didn’t respond, instead she seemed to focus on calming her breathing down, taking long, well-controlled and deep breaths.

“Jane,” Samantha said quietly, rising to sit up on the bed. She slid closer and reached to put her hand over Shepard’s arm from behind her. That seemed to be enough to yank Shepard back into reality. She jumped a little, startled, like she’d forgotten Samantha was even there.  
“I’m fine,” Shepard assured too easily and in a cool tone. She glanced over her shoulder at Samantha, unsmiling. While she didn’t shrug off the other woman’s touch, she didn’t do anything to encourage it either.

Shepard’s PTSD rarely showed on the surface, if anything, she seemed a little too well-adjusted after everything she’d lived through. She came across as generally happy and easygoing, even as a superior officer. If you did your job and didn’t cross any invisible lines by being disrespectful, you got along with her just fine. Samantha didn’t recall seeing Shepard aloof or brooding in private either... except that one time Shepard had drank too much, but other than that, she seemed downright cheerful when she spent time with Samantha. Right now, however, Samantha could almost feel the temperature in the room drop with the cold, detachment Shepard’s back offered.

Samantha moved to sit next to Shepard on the edge of the bed, telling herself not to push the commander; she’d just need to offer support and let Shepard decide when she’d tell her or if she’d tell her at all.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Samantha offered and Shepard scoffed, shaking her head as she leaned her elbows to her knees and stared at the floor.  
“Just a stupid dream,” she muttered, stood up and vanished into the bathroom before Samantha had a chance to say anything further.

Samantha glanced at the clock. 05:22, She wouldn’t have to be on duty until 7:00, but she wasn’t tired anymore, not after what had just happened. She admitted she felt a bit rejected after the way Shepard had just dismissed her, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t really even disappointed, she just wished Shepard would let her in. Of course, things like that required trust, and Samantha understood that she still had a long way to go before she could start building the unconditional trust Shepard would need to allow her close.

As she sat half-upright on the bed, leaning into the pillows behind her back, she was almost sure she could hear sobbing. Either that, or then it was just one of the random noises the aquarium produced. The sound of running water emanated from the bathroom and not long after that, Shepard emerged from the bathroom.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep now. Want to join me for breakfast?” Shepard asked casually as she toweled her hair and walked across the cabin, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  
“Or would you prefer staying in bed for a while longer? I’m sorry I woke you,” Shepard then apologized, shaking her head a little. As genuinely sorry as she seemed to be about interrupting Samantha’s sleep, she didn’t seem to be feeling awkward or uncomfortable about what had just happened. If anything, she was acting like _nothing_ had happened at all. Samantha had to wonder if it was just Shepard pretending, intentionally choosing not to remember… or if it was real. What if she really didn’t recall? What if she’d momentarily blacked out when having to deal with whatever she’d had the nightmare about? A repressed memory, pushed back so deep and so far, that whenever it bubbled to the surface, Shepard’s mind decided it was better to erase everything to protect Shepard from having to face it and possibly melt down because of it.

A soft kiss from Shepard interrupted Samantha’s musings and when she looked up at the commander’s face and saw the dark half-circles underneath Shepard’s eyes, the urge to just hold her and comfort her, to somehow ease whatever it was that so obviously pained Shepard raised its head. She wanted to once more remind Shepard that she was right here if Shepard wanted to talk, but decided not to do it. That would be pushing.  
“I’ll join you for breakfast,” Samantha said and Shepard smiled. It was a genuine smile, the kind that reached Shepard’s eyes and it never failed to make Samantha smile as well. She knew they wouldn’t talk about what was troubling Shepard, not today, and that was all right. Maybe they’d eventually get there, but for right now, all Samantha needed was that smile. It convinced her that her presence alone was comforting Shepard and helping the wounds on her soul begin to heal, even if just a little. It was a good place to start.


End file.
